


call me maybe

by thunderylee



Category: KAT-TUN (Band), NewS (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, Danger, Dubious Consent, M/M, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-25
Updated: 2012-07-25
Packaged: 2019-01-20 07:03:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12427443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: It’s all Nakamaru’s fault, and he doesn’t even know it.





	call me maybe

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written with ayamehadouken for kink bingo.

Massu didn’t mean to look, he really didn’t. He showers with other guys all the time, more than he’d care to admit, but usually he doesn’t linger in the doorway of the almost empty bathhouse fully clothed after a particularly grueling survival game with NTT. There’s just something about Nakamaru’s naked body that attracts his eyes, particularly when it’s wet and soapy and stretching to run a washcloth all over what looks to be smooth skin.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” a quiet voice says from behind him, and Massu jumps so high that he almost leaves the ground. “Though I daresay he’d kill you before you could do anything with it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Massu mutters, but he knows Taguchi knows he’s full of shit. “Don’t tell him, please,” he finally asks.

“Your secret is safe with me.” Massu feels relieved until hands rest on his waist, Taguchi’s next words spoken right into his ear. “Don’t you just want to bend him over and give it to him hard? Too bad he’d never let you. Trust me, we’ve tried.”

Massu sputters at the thought, but then Taguchi’s touch disappears and he’s left alone with his thoughts, which have suddenly become rather dirty for such a clean place.

Massu does his best to stop thinking of what Taguchi had said, but it wasn’t to be. His message alert trills at an hour too small to even _think_ of what scrolls across his screen. For a moment, he wonders how Taguchi had gotten hold of his phone number.

_i was thinking about earlier_ the message reads. _how naughty you were, peeping in on nakamaru-kun._

The words are bad enough, forcing Massu to think of the pale length of Nakamaru’s back as he bathed fully unaware of his audience. He tries to focus on anything but that, but Taguchi has also sent him a picture: Nakamaru is asleep, head lolling to the side. It looks like it had been taken on their drive back to the city.

Massu flushes as he imagines what it would be like to stretch out beside Nakamaru and carefully unzip his jeans, how he would sneak a hand around Nakamaru’s cock and stroke him to full awareness. He forces himself to stop right there, though his conviction wavers with the next message.

It’s quite clearly a picture of Taguchi’s hand fondling himself through his jeans, and it seems like it was from the very same drive hours earlier. _That_ was what all the shifting had been behind him the whole way? No wonder Koki had been making the strangest faces whenever he’d glance in the rearview mirror, torn between amusement and disapproval.

Massu decides to not dignify the messages with any response. He’ll wait a few days before he makes his own move.

Except that he can’t get it out of his mind, Taguchi’s tight grip on his waist and his hot voice and particularly the hard cock from which he had only been inches in the car. It’s distracting enough to have him messing up during rehearsal, and he _never_ messes up.

Koyama worries, Shige’s suspicious, and Tegoshi just grins like he already knows what’s going on. He probably does, the mind reader. The thought of Tegoshi knowing his private business is terrifying enough for Massu to sneak a message to the man who’s been haunting his brain (and various other parts) for almost a week now.

_It’s not fair that you know something about me and I don’t know anything about you. Tell me what your fantasy is._

It’s much easier to be forward in text and Massu feels better already, performing the entire routine flawlessly and helping out the others with their dance moves before returning to his phone several hours later.

_knives, guns, anything that invokes danger or questionable consent. i’m not a psycho, but i’d like to play one in bed._

Massu swallows, feeling his cheeks flush at the words he’d just read. Thankfully practice was long since over, and Massu had gotten home.

He marches straight to his bedroom, phone clutched in his hand. Massu only lets it go long enough to undress, tossing his clothes in the hamper before flopping onto his mattress. Phone in hand, Massu re-reads the message.

Usually he would never get off on any of the things Taguchi had listed, but Massu considers this to be the exception. He thinks back to how Taguchi had handled his gun during their survival game, and Massu wonders if he’d taken time out of their game to play with it in a different way. The images don’t stop there; Massu can’t stop imagining what the other would be like while handling a knife in bed.

Massu spills over his own hand as he imagines Taguchi trailing a knife down the center of his chest, barely on the edge of using enough pressure to break his skin and spill blood, and smirking down at him the whole time. It’s probably one of the best orgasms he’s had lately, and Massu tries not to dwell on it.

He doesn’t reply to the message. What would he even say? It’s bad enough the idea is there in the back of his mind — multiple ideas, actually, though they all end with Taguchi behind him. A knife to his throat, a gun to his head, forcing him to spread his legs and take him.

_haven’t heard from you for a while, have i scared you off?_

“You have no idea,” Massu mutters out loud, but he shakes himself out of his filthy imagination and types something decent — well, as decent as this topic will allow him to be.

_It’ll take more than that to scare me off, Taguchi-kun._

Satisfied, Massu puts his phone down to do his dishes and returns to two messages and a missed call.

_is that so? why don’t you call me then? we can discuss your feelings on the topic._

Then two minutes later. _i knew you wouldn’t call. ;)_

The missing call had just happened, and Massu’s voicemail blinks while he’s looking at the screen.

Massu bites his lip as he stares at the voicemail icon. He may as well find out what it says.

He presses the button, walking to his room once again and taking a seat on the edge of his bed. There’s a strange sort of anticipation roiling in his gut.

“Masuda-kun,” Taguchi purrs into his ear. He can almost imagine Taguchi standing behind him, hands hovering over his shoulders as he speaks. “I bet you haven’t stopped thinking of what I said earlier. I haven’t.”

Massu swallows. He feels as if he’s transparent though Taguchi can’t see him, much less hasn’t talked to him since that first day.

“You know, I haven’t stopped thinking about it either. About how powerful it feels, and how I bet you’d tremble at first. You know, I’d even let you try it out on me.”

Massu’s cock twitches at the thought. He thinks he’d like that very much, holding Taguchi down, perhaps with his hands around his throat. It would only be enough to make it a little difficult for him to breathe; Massu wouldn’t be that cruel.

He replays the message as he jerks himself off.

He makes it two days. It’s more out of curiosity than anything else, at least that’s what he tells himself as he locks himself in his room and turns off all the lights.

Lying naked on his bed, he stares at the glowing display on his phone that’s even brighter with no other light source. He scrolls over Taguchi’s name a few times, gathering up the nerve to call, and finally he compromises with himself and sends a simple message.

_Are you free now?_

His phone rings almost immediately, and Massu shivers all the way down to his toes as he takes a deep breath and answers. “Hello?”

“Masuda-kun,” Taguchi greets him, low and husky with a bit of maniacal humor. “What are you wearing?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Massu replies just as sarcastically, though his voice is deeper than usual.

“Oh, so we’re playing at coy. That’s okay, I’ll start.” Taguchi’s voice is full of self-satisfaction, and Massu can almost see him smirking.

“I had to dress nicely today, so I’ve still got a tie on. Have you ever considered all of the fun things you can do with them? You could tie somebody’s hands together, or gag them, or if you got the upper hand on me, you could choke me with it.”

Massu gasps, images crowding his mind’s eye as he starts getting hard. “I’ve never given it much thought, honestly,” he says, flushing at the way Taguchi laughs.

“You’ve been missing out on so much.” There’s rustling on the other end, and Massu wonders if Taguchi is opening his pants.

He makes a noncommittal sound, though it comes out more obscene than he intended. Taguchi just chuckles, which tickles Massu’s ear in a deliciously pleasant way, and Massu’s hand slides down to wrap around his hardening cock.

“So which one of my fantasies were you the most interested in?” Taguchi asks conversationally, like they’re discussing the weather. “Tell me and I’ll describe it to you.”

Massu’s next noise is definitely a moan, one which he tries to hold back and it escapes nonetheless, but all he hears on the other end is a hitch of breath. “The danger element, really,” he manages to say. “With a knife, or a gun, anything that has me fearing for my life.”

“Mm,” Taguchi replies in a knowing tone. “You want it done to you?”

“Yeah,” Massu admits, his own breath catching in his throat as he imagines it. “I do.”

“Perfect.” Massu can almost see Taguchi smirk across the phone line. “I like playing the predator, a lot. Just thinking about holding a knife to your throat has me so hard.”

Massu moans again, shamelessly, unconsciously stretching his neck as he imagines a cool blade pressed against his skin.

“You have such a nice voice, Masuda-kun,” Taguchi goes on, his tone dripping with innuendo: _I want to hear you scream_. “Tell me, would you consent easily? Or would I have to work for it?”

Massu gasps a bit as he considers. “I don’t know,” he says, honestly unsure.

Taguchi chuckles. “Oh, that’s even more fun. A little effort makes it even sweeter.”

“Go on.” Massu slowly drags his hand along his cock. He’s already leaking, and they’ve barely begun.

“I’d like to corner you after work; all of our band mates long gone. Our dressing room has the biggest mirror, all along most of one wall. You’ve seen it, I know.” Taguchi’s breaths have become heavier.

“Okay,” Massu breathes, hand still pumping himself slowly.  
“I carry a switchblade on me, you know, just in case.” Taguchi sounds like he’s doing the same thing Massu is, and the thought has him gripping himself harder. “Yuichi asked me to stop bringing it to work, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

The mention of Massu’s best friend has him recalling that day in the showers, when Taguchi caught him peeping, and everything is suddenly so hot. “Why did he ask you to stop?”

“I like to play with it,” Taguchi answers simply. “Flip it open and closed, admire the blade, lay it against my skin. You know how he is — creeps him right out.”

“Would you ever use it on him?” Massu finds himself asking, his mental image now replaced with Taguchi holding a knife to _Nakamaru’s_ throat, the fear evident in his eyes.

“He’d never let me,” Taguchi answers, sounding sad about it, and Massu finds himself sharing the disappointment. “But we can pretend.”

“Yes, yes we can,” Massu rushes to agree.

Taguchi exhales quietly, then continues. “Imagine it, Masuda-kun. Poor Yuichi, trapped between the wall and me and my knife. His eyes would be open so wide and terrified, and I could feel his pulse hammering away all rabbit-rapid under my hand. Can you see it?”

Massu nods, forgetting that he isn’t actually in the same room as Taguchi. He remembers, and he’s momentarily beyond words; all he can do is moan. Taguchi takes it as encouragement, filthy words falling from his mouth.

“He’d be so scared, too afraid for indignation. All Yuichi would be able to do would be to lick his lips, all nervous-like, and I’d have to press the flat of the blade against his full lips. Keep him quiet, you know.”

“Jesus,” Massu gets out, his hips snapping into his stilled hand. He has to stop or he’s going to come, and he’s not nearly ready to be done yet. “He would be so terrified.”

“He’d have no choice but to comply with my wishes,” Taguchi goes on, each enunciation sending a jolt through Massu’s body. “You’re more turned on when you’re scared. Did you know that, Masuda-kun?”

Massu opens his mouth to reply, but a deep groan escapes instead. “I didn’t.”

“Fear and lust are both strong emotions that can trigger each other,” Taguchi explains. “And you know how scared he gets. It would be so good for both of us. Think about it.”

Taguchi doesn’t have to tell him — Massu already has the scene envisioned behind his eyes. Taguchi holding Nakamaru at knifepoint, the fear in Nakamaru’s eyes, the way he’s balling his fists at his sides helplessly. His body shaking as Taguchi grabs him, spins him around, and pushes him against the wall.

“Talk to me, Masuda-kun,” Taguchi says gently. “Tell me what you see.”

“I… I can see the exact look on Nakamaru’s face. Outrage overpowered by fear. You’ve got one arm locked across his throat, so close to cutting off his air, and you’re barely dragging the tip of your knife along the edge of Nakamaru’s jaw.” Massu takes a deep breath, closing his fist around the base of his cock. “Nakamaru looks like he wants to fight you off, both of his hands in fists, but I can see how hard he is.”

“Oh, that’s _perfect_ ,” Taguchi groans, and Massu can hear the faint noise of Taguchi jerking himself off. “Finally Yuichi would cave, and he’d get that resigned look he gets when we try to get him to look over the edges of rooftops, and he’d barely nod. I think I’d let the blade ‘slip’ just the tiniest bit so I could watch the shock flash through his eyes before I turned him to face the wall.”

Massu is far too turned on to even think about how fucked up this is, jerking off to the thought of his best friend being held at knife point, too drawn in by the nearly hypnotic way Taguchi drawls out his words.

“Taguchi-kun, I can’t wait much longer,” he warns, his voice coming out more whiny than he intends. “I’m so close.”

“Yeah?” Taguchi sounds positively sinful, like how Massu imagines the devil would sound just before he steals your soul. “Then think about this — me fucking him against the wall, holding the blade in front of his face so he doesn’t forget about it. Maybe he’s whimpering a little, hands clawing at the wall. Then I order him to touch himself and he sobs as he does it –”

That’s it; Massu willpower breaks and his hand flies up and down. He makes it about five seconds before he’s spurting over his fingers, his cell phone falling to the side as he shoves his fist in his mouth to stifle his sudden loud moans. He comes so hard that he’s still shuddering from the force of it as he makes a face at his hand and remembers the phone.

Massu scrambles for it with his clean hand, still trying to catch his breath. He can still hear Taguchi, slick noises as he fucks his fist. The noises are so utterly filthy, and Taguchi sounds like he’s laughing. Abruptly, it changes to the filthiest, most drawn-out moan Massu has ever heard.

He stays on the line, unable to stop listening. Massu is so enthralled he ignores the mess he’s made, phone crushed against his ear.

“That was fun, Masuda-kun,” Taguchi says, his voice a heaving whisper. “Maybe next time we can talk about me doing it to you.”

Massu groans low in his throat, his words coming before he can process them. “Or maybe you can just do it to me.”

“Oh, I would _love_ to,” Taguchi purrs, “but some things are better left to fantasy.”


End file.
